magneto. (magnetized) wrote in realitycrash, @ 2012-01-25 06:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | erik lehnsherr, raven darkholme |
Who: Erik Lehnsherr and Raven Darkholme
What: Erik's ....special brand of caring?
Where: The Manor
When: 25 Jan 2012
Rating: UHHH PGish?
Notes: I'M STILL DOING TAGS EVERYONE.
Erik had finally found the motivation to stop moving.
In a situation like his - as if there were any, other than in this strange little pocket of the US - another person might have simply curled into the fetal position and stayed there until he felt he could move, but not Erik. Erik approached problems by attacking them head on, with fists if necessary, and when there had been no immediate plan of approach for how to get back to the Russian confrontation, he'd filled the hours with other things until he thought Charles might actually tape him to something to get him to sit still.
He'd gone running. When he couldn't do that anymore he'd read as much as he could find about that Day in history, a day that did exist here - the Cuban Missile Crisis - but found no mention of Shaw or mutants. This barely surprised him, it had been at least something of a covert operation, but he'd thought after that--surely. There would be something.
But there was not.
So he ran, and he read, and when he was too tired for anything else he'd warped a metal lamp in his room at the Manor almost beyond recognition. It was no worse for wear now, of course, he was capable of creation as well as destruction--after that he'd slept, at least he thought he had. Charles had been present at some point, and he was grateful for that even in his silence, a thing weighed on the both of them like a rust-encrusted anchor.
And then suddenly--the children. The teenagers, or however they were to be called; Erik had trouble slotting them into any particular age bracket. They'd been tried and tested by the attack on the CIA facility as far as he was concerned, and young soldiers were still soldiers. Thinking of them that way was easier than thinking of them as mired in some sprawling state of Youth he couldn't relate to anyway. They weren't all here, but it was a start. It meant something called for his attention other than where it was easiest to focus the jagged open wounds of his anger, and so it was that once he'd woken up and shaped his appearance into submission, he went looking for Raven in whatever corner of the manor she'd ensconced herself.
He understood from Charles that their points of origin seemed to be slightly different, but as bizarre an idea as that was it changed very little. She was still Raven, and Erik thought it was certainly worth his time to see how she was doing. Tragically, because the Manor lacked the wide open spaces that meant he could just creep up like some kind of paternal shark, he had to knock.